I'm shallow. So?

Yes, I read women's magazines and I watch shallow TV shows. And no, I'm not ashamed of it. Some (or most) of the guys probably think I should. But hey, those are the guys who also think that this type of media 'teaches women to be whores', 'destroys their self-confidence' or 'creates shop addicts'. Well, I've got news. Maybe women who read fashion magazines do have the smallest IQs. Who cares? I suppose most of the guys hate 'bitches' because they can't have them, and when they do, it's not exclusively. They don't want women to be promiscuous because it makes them less available. Don't like the argument? Well, theirs makes me throw up too. God, I hate these websites where stupid Americans write about how they're not interested in other cultures because Europeans are trash and don't wash and how women are not decent anymore because they watch stupid TV shows. They should just stick all their guns into their large McDonald's-filled asses and leave the rest of the world alone. I'm sorry, I'm just a stupid woman in the end. And more stupid women before me fought for my right to decide upon my own body, life, media consumption and express it. Some will never understand why women like this kind of shows and magazines because they'll never understand women. Ignorants can't understand different doesn't mean worse.

Fairies wear boots

After all, journeys begin in our minds. Alain de Botton's idea, according to which the vacations we take are a source of enthusiasm as long as we can leave ourselves behind, at home, is more or less true in the case of those who have at least an idea about who they are or could be. For the rest of us, travelling is a continuous route to initiation and fits naturally in the chaos of our lives. [No more jobs, back to school, and I'm already facing the terrible perspective of change again.]
Walk through the market. It has a different scent each day. Sometimes it's pickles, other times it's cabbage or daisies or chrysanthemum. Love the mess and don't forget about the people. And whenever you think you're better than that, forget it. You're not. Just different. Is there a better place to celebrate diversity? The point is... people walking through the market are all alone, most of them, and there is no sense of belonging, so in a way they're also free of a couple of social constraints, free to argue with strangers, to swear and curse, not worse persons, but part of a short initiatic journey, right?